Outlaw
by Bitter and Twisted
Summary: A month or so after the end of X2, yet another new mutant arrives on the scene - in some manner - with enemies hot on his trail ... rating may rise with subsequent chapters.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: the usual - I don't own them and no money is being made from this (I wish!) Reviews always welcome so no need to be shy!!  
  
Acknowledgements: a VERY special thank you to John, co-creator and artist extraordinaire for drawing such wonderful pictures of our hero Outlaw. Have you considered working for Marvel Comics?  
  
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Logan moved as silently as a faded phantom through the darkening hallways and rooms of Xavier's School for the Gifted, known among its students as "mutant high". Although he could not see what each of his fellow mutants were doing at present, his heightened senses of hearing and smell told him as clearly as if they had all been arrayed in front of him in broad daylight.  
  
Rogue and Bobby Drake were in the sitting room just off the main hall, huddled close together for comfort. They had been talking quietly a few minutes previously, but they had lapsed into silence and neither seemed inclined to start chatting again. Their quiet seemed more in keeping with the sombre pall that had been cast over the mansion ever since the disaster at Alkali Lake.  
  
Logan truly thought of it as a disaster - how could anyone think otherwise? They had saved mutant kind from the twisted plans of General Stryker, sure enough; they had saved mankind from the vengeance of Magneto - but their loss felt greater than both of these combined.  
  
Storm was sitting out in the garden, just under the window to his left, watching darkness flood the sky like the high tide on the seashore. Logan knew there would be tears in her eyes as she watched the glimmering stars appear one by one and realise that Jean would never see them again. Their newly appointed German teacher, Kurt Wagner, lurked in the shadows nearby, golden glowing eyes fixed on Storm's every motion, every nuance of her expressions, longing to comfort her but fearing to impose himself upon her, rosary sliding through his fingers and lips moving as he prayed for Jean and Storm and all at the mansion.  
  
Logan wondered whether or not he ever featured in Kurt's prayers, then decided it didn't matter. He didn't believe in Kurt's God.  
  
Professor Xavier was working in his office, studying books Logan had never even heard of, much less read, face sad and thoughtful as his telepathic abilities found gaps amongst his students, his children, gaping holes that used to be filled to bursting with life and knowledge and memory. The loss of Jean, one of his first students, almost a daughter to him, had shaken him to his very core, though he bore up bravely for the sake of Scott and Storm and the others. Almost as crushing was John's decision to go with Magneto, his choice of hatred over understanding. The Professor knew John's decision was his own - but that didn't assuage the guilt.  
  
Logan shook his head - he knew about guilt. He knew that it could tear you to pieces if you allowed it to. The "ifs" were enough to drive anyone up the wall, across the ceiling and down the other side. He moved on once again.  
  
And then there was Cyclops, Scott Summers, four-eyes. Logan could barely begin to imagine what he was feeling right now - he himself had known Jean for only a comparatively short time, but he was devastated by her loss. For Scott it must be like having half his soul ripped away from him brutally, cruelly, finally.  
  
Give the guy a break, why don't ya? I mean, I don't like him but he doesn't deserve this, of all things.  
  
Turning a corner, Logan paused as he saw a tall figure up ahead, clothed entirely in black, visor in place as usual, but his usual proud bearing completely broken down. Shoulders slumped, head hanging, feet dragging, skin pale and he was beginning to loose weight as well. Physically and mentally he was turning into a walking shadow of his former self.  
  
Logan sighed deeply and leaned against the wall, wondering what the hell he was supposed to say to the guy. He had no experience with all this emotional crap - if somebody needed an ass-kicking, he was your clawed, one mutant demolition squad, but the touchy-feely stuff? Nah!  
  
But then again, the Professor had specifically asked Logan to try and help Scott through this god awful time. "I know how you felt about Jean, Logan. You of all people should understand what he's going through right now. You might be able to reach him where no one else can."  
  
Logan had already tried - Jean had chosen Scott, no question about that. Not exactly ego massaging stuff for him, but Scott hadn't taken a blind bit of notice. Logan couldn't really blame the guy.  
  
So, no sobbing heart-to-heart was going to help Scott. What would then?  
  
Logan could think of only one thing. It was by no means permanent, but maybe it was a start.  
  
Squaring his shoulders, he marched straight up to Scott and stood waiting for him to speak. Scott ignored him for some minutes, lost in a bittersweet memory, before Logan's bristling presence finally became too much for him to disregard. "What do you want?" he snapped angrily, as the images of a fair summer day spent with Jean in the mountains faded from his mind.  
  
"Grab your jacket, visor boy." Logan advised. Scot snorted indelicately.  
  
"And why the hell should I do that?"  
  
"Because," Logan informed him, as though speaking to a very young child, "you and I are gonna go find a decent bar, get drunk and maybe start a fight or two. At least we'll break a few glasses."  
  
If looks could maim, Logan wouldn't have needed any beer to make him legless that evening. "You are unbelievable," Scott informed him, voice shaky with barely repressed rage. "Go away."  
  
Logan rolled his eyes. "No. Come on, anything will be better than hanging round here for a second longer."  
  
Scott turned to look out of the window. "I'm not going to get soused with you. Some of us have classes to teach tomorrow. So just leave me alone!"  
  
Logan absorbed this in silence, allowing Scott to simmer with rage at anything and everything before he spoke again, this time with unaccustomed gentleness. "I know that in the long run it doesn't solve anything," he said, facing into the gloom - only his enhanced vision meant that he could see perfectly well. "But every now and then you just need to cut loose, go wild - you know. Cause you've been burying a lot of stuff ever since we got back here, and if you don't let it all hang out soon it'll come right back up to get ya. So what do you say to a boy's night out?"  
  
Scott was so still after his lame attempt at counselling that Logan thought for a crazy second he'd fallen asleep at the window. But then suddenly he turned to face Logan properly for the first time in days. "Professor Xavier will be mad," he remarked blandly, sounding just like a kid before a bout of rule breaking.  
  
Logan smiled ever so slightly. "Tell him it was my fault."  
  
Cyclops nodded composedly. "I'm driving." 


	2. Boys' Night Out

Part Two  
  
"I mean, she was beautiful and everything, but she was so smart and fun and wise and wonderful," Scott told the bartender in-between gulps of his third beer. Scott had never ever seen the guy before tonight and was having difficulty remembering his name, but right now he was more than willing to lend a sympathetic ear and that was just what Scott needed as the alcohol loosened his tongue as well as his inhibitions.  
  
"I know just how you feel. I lost my Louisa May three years ago," the bartender sighed, eyes gazing at nothing. "Cancer, you know. Just ate away at her until there was nothing left. Ugliest, most painful goddamned thing I ever saw. She was so pretty and lively and it just destroyed her."  
  
"Jean drowned," Scott returned. "Least - at least it was quick. But feels like half of me is missing, you know?"  
  
The bartender nodded. "I know. It's always hard at first, son. You never really stop grieving - but eventually you get to remember the good times instead of the bad, the time when you lost them."  
  
"You don't forget?" Scott asked, nursing his beer like a child with a favourite teddy bear. That was what he was most afraid of - to forget Jean, to forget that her loveliness and warmth ever existed - that would be the worst betrayal of all.  
  
A shake of the head from the bartender answered that query quietly but emphatically. "You never forget, son. Never - you live life, you move on, you have to, but you never forget."  
  
Scott smiled sadly, and gratefully, and held up his beer. "To my Jean and your Louisa May. Wherever they are, I hope they're living it up."  
  
"Here, here," the bartender chorused, clinking Scott's beer with his glass of water before leaning closer across in a conspiratorial manner. "Just between you and me son, you'd better get your buddy over there away from that blonde bombshell. Her name's Daphne and her boyfriend's the meanest, biggest barroom brawler in this state. I really don't want my bar smashed up again."  
  
Scott glanced over at the leggy blonde who was cuddling up to a slightly bemused but perfectly willing Logan, and grinned for the first time in weeks. "Leave it to me, buddy," he replied, setting his beer down. "I'll take care of it."  
  
Scott approached them slightly unsteadily, wondering how the hell he'd be able to force Logan away from a girl like Daphne, who as well as being blonde obviously made the most of her natural attributes. Logan didn't appear at all drunk despite being on his fourth beer, and whilst he and Scott were of similar heights, Logan was much burlier than he was.  
  
Brains over brawn, Jean would say. Works every time.  
  
Then he groaned inwardly as he saw someone approaching the pair from the men's room. He was big - at least six foot five - he was bald, his eyes were hard as flint, and he was built like a grizzly bear, and sounded like one too.  
  
"What the fucking hell do you think you're doing?" he snarled, grabbing Logan by the collar as the blonde backed up hastily. Logan took an inventory at first glance and smiled - finally, a chance for a good punch up. He'd been angling for one all night - he'd take it over the blonde any time. Sometimes a guy felt like doing it, and sometimes he just felt like kicking ass.  
  
"What are you smiling at?" the behemoth - evidently Daphne's boyfriend - growled, hand bunching into a fist, thinking he was being made fun of. Logan began loosening off his muscles ready to swing -  
  
"Logan, sweetie!"  
  
Logan glanced over to where the unusually high falsetto came from - and felt his jaw drop as Scott came mincing over. He beamed up at the big guy as he draped a long arm over Logan's shoulder. "Making a new friend here, honey?"  
  
Honey? Oh, no - no no no - "Summers, what the hell -"he growled between gritted teeth, trying to push him off. But Scott was surprisingly strong, and he squeezed Logan's arm mischievously as he turned to the big guy again. "Do you like what you see?" he inquired. "Isn't he just gorgeous? I'm so lucky!"  
  
The big guy's eyes widened until they were almost the size of dinner plates, and he began stammering apologies. Daphne looked perfectly disgusted. Logan looked as though he was about to explode, and not with passion. "Four-eyes, I'm gonna claw you in both feet and make you walk back home -"  
  
"Not now, precious. We have to get going. Nice to have met you folks!" Scott chirped as Logan pushed his arm off, and blushing every shade of the rainbow, made for the door. Scott could see the grinning bartender giving him double thumbs up. Scott strode over, and dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the bar. "Buy yourself a drink, buddy," he instructed him, and dashed after Logan.  
  
"You shit!" Logan snapped as soon as Scott caught up with him. Scott just put an arm round his waist and gazed mock-adoringly at him.  
  
"Oh, I love it when you get mad, darling!"  
  
Logan jabbed him in the stomach and strode off to the car park. Scott could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. He began laughing, and soon doubled over as he gave up trying to hold them in. His ribs hurt, and his laughs soon almost turned into shrieks, and he couldn't have stopped even if he'd wanted, and then suddenly they were mingled with sobs and he was kneeling on the cold asphalt and he was crying and laughing at the same time and he was pounding the ground -  
  
"Easy, Scott, easy. Just let it all out - but, er, don't carve your hands up."  
  
Logan, again - what did he want? Suddenly Scott felt himself being lifted off the ground and half-carried somewhere, still sobbing and laughing, but mostly crying now. Slowly, he felt the gut-wrenching sobs begin to subside, and he began hiccoughing and gulping in deep breaths of air as he calmed down. He suddenly realised that he was sitting on the bonnet of the car they had purloined, and Logan was sitting beside him, waiting for him to stop weeping.  
  
Scott finally managed to get himself more or less under control, save for a sniffle or two. He didn't feel at all embarrassed for having broken down and cried in front of Logan, of all people - he still felt the desolation near his core, but almost abruptly there was a sudden release. He had cried for Jean. He would never forget her. And Jean would have laughed herself silly if she could have seen what he had done to Logan.  
  
I love you, Jeanie. Miss you, sweetheart.  
  
"That better?" Logan inquired gently after some minutes had passed. Scott paused, and then nodded.  
  
"A bit. Thanks for - you know, suggesting this."  
  
Logan snorted. "That was a stupid thing you did back there. Ain't the sort of thing a guy does to another - well, unless - but anyway, I was thinking Jean would have laughed. Plus it proves you do have a sense of humour. I was beginning to wonder about that."  
"Oh, I don't make just anybody laugh, you know," Scott told him in- between hiccupping breaths as he began to calm down.  
  
"You sure don't make me laugh," Logan growled. Scott smirked ever so slightly; though his eyes were still watering with unshed tears behind his visor.  
  
"I've got to stop teasing you, Logan," he remarked. "It's too easy - there's no sport in it."  
  
There was no response from Logan this time - he was too busy staring off into the distance. No, not the distance - he had his eyes fixed on a small bunch of trees the hemmed in the car park. He sniffed the air a couple of times, and then jumped to the ground, fists clenched ready to pop his claws.  
  
"What is it?" Scott whispered tears and intoxication vanishing before the surge of adrenaline than ran through him. He put a hand up to his visor in readiness to fire, though he still had little idea what was going on - Logan's stance told him all he needed to know.  
  
"Something's coming," Logan hissed. "Can't tell just what ." he sniffed again, and then suddenly dropped to a crouch, entirely concentrated on the scent being borne to him on the breeze.  
  
If he puts his nose to the ground I'm going to start laughing again for sure . Scott thought absurdly, trying to stifle what was left of his giggling fit. He had to be ready for action if need be.  
  
"It's frightened ." Logan told him, frowning. "It - no, they - there's two of 'em . and I think they're mutants ."  
  
"Are they hostile?" Scott asked worriedly, all desire to laugh completely evaporated.  
  
"Only if we get in their way ." Logan remarked wryly, standing up from his crouch a little, still ready to fight but not yet popping his claws, though the tension in his arms told Cyclops he was aching to. Scott admired his restraint.  
  
Now he too could here the sounds of someone crashing through the woods, snapping twigs, tripping over roots, banging into whatever lay in its path. Scott even thought he caught the sound of muffled cursing.  
  
"Here it comes ." Wolverine told him, unsheathing his claws at last.  
  
Cyclops readied his optic beams.  
  
The undergrowth directly in front of them parted, to reveal .  
  
Nothing? Cyclops realised in astonishment. 


	3. Now You Don't See It

Part Three  
  
"There's nothing there!" Scott exclaimed bewildered, annoying and half-suspecting Logan was playing a return practical joke on him. "Logan, what -"  
  
"There *is* something there," Logan hissed. "We just can't see 'em - keep your eye open, remember?"  
  
Scott turned back to the bushes, struggling for a suitable retort, just in time to see them snap back together as though bound by an elastic band. Logan strode forward, claws at the ready -  
  
"Ouch!" he yelled suddenly, and to his utter amazement Scott saw him go flying through the air to land *hard* and ungracefully on the concrete of the car park, narrowly missing their parked car. But Scott barely had time to register what was happening to his comrade when what felt like a fist connected with his jaw. For a moment all was numb, but then the pain kicked in and he saw stars behind his visor as he reeled back, struggling to remain on his feet. Dimly, he realised that Logan was back on his feet and sniffing the air again.  
  
"One-eye, you okay?" he growled. Scott probed his jaw gingerly.  
  
"I'll be all right. What *was* that?"  
  
"Whatever it is, it's - there!" Logan took off and leapt at nothing in a flying tackle Red Grange would have been proud of.  
  
"Oomph!" went something that definitely wasn't Logan as the other man grabbed the unseen something in a death grip. Then Logan began jerking around, as though being pummelled by an invisible assailant. "Ouch, hold still, goddamn it!" Wolverine yelled claws out but not making contact with anything.  
  
[Invisible? Oh, I get it!] Scott thought in a flash of inspiration as Logan hung on grimly. He took a moment to steady himself and ran forward.  
  
"Let GO of me, you - you -"whatever Logan was wrestling with began yelling. Cyclops noted something familiar about the voice, but didn't have time to analyse it as he put his hand to his visor.  
  
"Logan - hold still!" he cried. Logan twisted to face him and did as Scott said, for once. A second later, Scott let an optic beam loose. It struck what Logan was holding cleanly and fiercely.  
  
"Ah!" came the unseen voice again. Then a moment later, the air in front of Logan *rippled*, like water on the surface of a pond in the breeze. Then, as though a veil had been pulled away, suddenly they could see what Logan was hanging on to.  
  
A man, in a long black coat, and with a black Stetson pulled down low on his head. He glanced up at Logan briefly before his knees buckled and his eyes closed as he fell unconscious. Logan lowered him gently to the asphalt, before stepping back and sheathing his claws again.  
  
"Holy Mother of -"Cyclops muttered, gazing at the still figure lying on the ground. "You were right!"  
  
"'Course I was!" Logan replied indignantly. "God, for a skinny guy like him he sure put up a hell of a fight."  
  
Cyclops looked round to make sure that no-one had witnessed the fight, before crouching down beside the unconscious man and gently removing the black cowboy hat he was wearing. He saw to his surprise that their attacker could barely be considered a man - he didn't look much older than Bobby Drake! Unruly chestnut brown hair covered his head and his features were gentle so long as he was still. Logan was right, though - he was tallish, but definitely on the thin side, and his jeans and coat had seen better days. He was very pale, as well, though with exhaustion or illness Scott couldn't tell.  
  
"Definitely a mutant, then," Scott remarked. "Hmm, I've never seen anything like this before. We'd better get him back to the school and let the Professor have a look at him."  
  
"And get him some medical attention," Logan replied. "That was a hell of a jolt you gave him."  
  
"Strong enough to take down a grizzly," Cyclops commented. "But it still took time to drop him. This guy must be as strong as Colossus, nearly." He glanced over at the car. "We can take him back so long as - hey, Logan, I thought you said there were two of them?"  
  
"There are," Logan said, looking round cautiously. "I can't tell where the other is - scent's too weak. I'll have to go and look. You get the Invisible Man here back to the school pronto."  
  
"Last I heard, *I* was the leader of this outfit," Scott answered indignantly. "Anyway, what if you need back-up? And I'm probably over the drink-drive limit as it is. If I crash, the Professor -"  
  
"Do you *always* play by the goddamn rules?" Logan sighed, rolling his eyes. "One, if there's another mutant out there; I'm the one who has the best chance of finding it. Two, if it's vicious, I'm the one who has the best chance of carving it up into tiny little cutlets, three, that guy's hurt and needs a doctor, and four, you don't need to worry about driving while friggin' intoxicated so long as you don't get pulled over, and what are the odds of that happening this time of night if you drive slow? And lastly, you're only leader on X-Men missions or when it suits me. This is a boy's night out, remember?"  
  
"It *was* a boy's night out," Scott said in his most authoritative tone. "Now it's officially an incident to be dealt with by Professor Xavier in whatever way he sees fit. Now, as leader, I order you to grab a cell phone and look for that other mutant while I get this one back to the mansion. Call if you need back-up."  
  
"That's what I just said."  
  
"Yeah, but I just made it official."  
  
"Jerk."  
  
"Ignoramus."  
  
"One-eye."  
  
"Claws."  
  
"See you in a while. I'll keep you posted."  
  
"Take care now."  
  
"How'd you know that blast would take down a grizzly?" Logan asked suddenly. Scott smiled wryly.  
  
"Very long story."  
  
"So long, visor-boy," Logan grinned in response, running off into the woods before Scott could think of another insult. Shaking his head and grinning, he gently loaded the unconscious mutant into the back of the car, wondering what the Professor would have to say about all this. 


	4. Logan As Opposed To Kitty

After more than a year, an actual update! Shocking, huh? Sorry about the delays (blame college) and I'll try and update a bit more regularly from hereon in!

Part Four

Logan leapt nimbly over a moss-covered log and landed in a crouch, senses on full alert, every muscle poised and ready for action. He put his head on one side as the screech of tyres on asphalt sounded – Cyclops was safely on his way then. Logan turned his attention back to the faint scent of the other mutant.

It was extremely weak – Logan was willing to bet the lack of scent was a factor in the mutant's genetics, a camouflage mechanism. He was no scientist, but he was damned good at thinking like a military man. If he couldn't even smell the thing, then chances were he wouldn't be able to see it either. This left the one other thing he always relied on: his super-acute hearing.

Sinking to his knees, Logan closed his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm himself and block out any external distractions. (Huh? Where the hell did I learn this?) He shook his head to clear it of stray thoughts, and began breathing slowly again. His heart rate began to slow, and his ears were tuning themselves in to the sounds of the woodland – night birds calling, insects chirping, the low murmur of talk from the bar, the wind rustling through the leaves …

Something whimpered. It would have passed any human or even the rest of the X-Men by, but Logan was up and running towards the sound before it had quite died away. The thrill of hunting coursed through him – it had been too damned long since he'd done this, just cut loose and run …

He skidded to a halt next to the tree he marked mentally, and dropped to his knees, pulling away the dead leaves and dirt and sticks piled up around its base, until his reaching hands touched living flesh. Silently he paused, and drew back. He popped the claws in his right hand and held them poised and ready, before reaching with his left and pulling at whatever lay crouched on the ground under cover.

"Dada?" it gurgled, big, green eyes blinking up at Logan, who promptly staggered back and fell on his rear with a thump.

"Dada? Pick-pick?" it called again, wriggling in its position on the ground. Logan groaned in annoyance. A kid – what's more, a baby? What was a baby doing hidden in the woods like this? And what did it think it was, spoiling his fun like that? He'd gotten all wound up for a vicious fight job and now he was going to wind up playing nanny.

"Kid, you just ruined my evening," he informed the toddler, who promptly crawled over to him, and started tugging at his jeans. "All right, all right!" he grumbled, lifting the well-wrapped little thing into his lap. A boy, as far as he could tell, about eighteen months old, and definitely a mutant. Massive green eyes – Logan was willing to bet the kid could see in the dark – tiny little furred ears, rather like you'd see on a panther, clawed hands and feet, as the little one was barefooted, and, goddamn it, a furry little tail that was twitching underneath the blankets tucked around it. Hell, it even had whiskers and a furry little nose!

Its hair looked human though, and the rest of its face was fur-free, as were its hands – paws. The little thing also appeared quite fearless, scrutinising Logan boldly, before reaching out to pat his face. "Kitty," it pronounced, stroking one of his sideburns with claws safely retracted. Logan glared at the toddler, only for it to curl up against contentedly against him and start sucking its thumb.

Logan sighed deeply. Why did kids insist on gravitating towards him? Bad enough that Artie kid he'd carried back to the Blackbird now followed him everywhere, but if this new addition insisted on calling him "Kitty", he'd never hear the end of it – besides which, they already had one Kitty at the mansion, which was more than enough, considering the havoc she caused by running through people instead of around them. "Kid, you've got a few things to learn about me. Number one, I'm not a nice guy, and two, I hate being called Kitty – understand what I'm saying? My name is Logan. Got that? Lo-gan."

The little boy regarded him solemnly, and removed his thumb from his mouth. "Kitty!" he announced happily. Logan rolled his eyes, and got to his feet, still cradling the little boy in his arms. "Okay," he sighed as he began walking, the little mutant gazing at him raptly. "Let's see if we can get this right before we arrive at the mansion. My name is Logan…"


End file.
